The abuse of the judiciary and law enforcement agencies have been persistent, since the birth of Bangladesh, very true. Almost all regimes have abused their power in persecuting the opponents in varying degrees (And I guess this practice isn’t endemic to Bangladesh only, many countries with similar socio-political stature face the same phenomena)

However, some interesting and noteworthy aberrations during the past (and present thanks to a farcical election) government’s regime include the arrest and continued incarceration of high profile opposition leaders. At least 25 leaders of the topmost leadership of the opposition party is currently in jail. Starting from the secretary general to the common ward committee members of the main opposition parties have been constantly being subjected to police harassment and sentences. Cases against them include farces like burning of garbage trucks, stealing trivial things from anonymous people etc. Despite the High court rulings that set very strict standards for obtaining remand, police and the lower judiciary are seen abusing those standards and are granted remands. More and more opposition leaders are denied bails. For unknown reasons, eminent people are being kept in prison without granting bails. The list includes newspaper editors, human rights activists, online activists and people from the academia as well.

Many opposition leaders are getting arrested just as they voice their demand in public, being shown arrested in previous cases, which are in most cases of absolutely no merit . As a result an atmosphere of fear has been created, an all out police state is being implemented. Many leaders are afraid of coming out in public. Let alone the grass roots level activists who are seldom spending the nights at their own places. And not only that, police are arresting other family members of the leaders family too, including female members. The houses are being ransacked, in some cases bulldozed. There are also reports of the combined forces looting valuables from the households form the opposition activists. In some cases mass arrests are leading upto bribes, and people are being freed based on the amount of bribe being given to police. The already overcapacity prisons are getting are even more crowded by thsese wholesale arrests. There was an instance of arresting 200 topmost leaders of the opposition en mass from their party office, over a case of cocktails been found in their party office premises.

All this harsh treatment meted out to the opposition has an even more harsher underlying subtext . It is true that the prisons have been over capacity for years. But, how are these new prisoners being accommodated ? There lies the more shocking tale. Many convicts are let go by the government. The list includes top terror crime bosses, sentenced ruling party thugs, known drug peddlers, known petty criminals. Some of these criminals are let go on the promise of staying in the field alongside ruling party activists to thwart any political movement of the opposition. Many newspaper reports an increase in the supply of guns in the recent months. Before every other election, their was a strong drive to recover illegal weapons by the previous election time caretaker governments. This time the political government totally shied away from that drive. And a servile Election Commission didn’t push for it either. They even published a farcical decree to not even submit the weapons, insisting only not to carry it !!.

So, spreading the blame equally across the board seems to do injustice to the prominent role this quasi fascist regime, elected through pseudo-elections, is playing in completely decimating the rule of law. The abuse of power to persecute opposition coupled with a flagrant disregard for the rule of law under the current regime is simply shocking and is plainly reminding of the anarchy of the mid seventies.

It seems that every man, woman, child, their pets, even their Apple devices seem to have an opinion on what BNP should have done. Well, I am not going to add to that volume. I don’t presume to lecture politicians who have been practising their craft since before I was a twinkling in my parent’s eyes on what they should have done. I can, however, revisit what I wrote exactly halfway through the Awami League’s last term, and make an educated guess about how things could unfold from here on.

… there are good reasons to expect an AL win in 2013 election. What happens then?

… AL may well win the 2013 election, but its ability to hold on to power and govern successfully will depend on four key powerbrokers in Bangladesh: the bureaucracy, the army, foreign powers, and the business sector.

That’s what I wrote in July 2011. To be sure, I got a lot of things wrong. Follow through the links and you’ll find that I was fearing that a fragmented BNP would hand Awami League a narrow victory in a flawed election. The reality is that while BNP was more united than at any time in its history — not a single member of any standing left the party to join the 5 January election — and might have won any semi-decent election in a landslide, Mrs Wajed decided to hold an election that surpassed the 1996 or 1988 farces to rival the 1971 ‘by elections’ held under Lt Gen Niazi.

Clearly, I did not see this coming. But then again, very few did.

As such, the Prime Minister’s ability to push the envelop should not be underestimated. Nonetheless, it might still be instructive to think about how the four bastions of power needed to govern Bangladesh are likely to behave from here on.

The analysis is most straightforward with the army. As I’ve argued in a number of places (for example, here), the only likely scenario under which a military coup is plausible is during a political crisis where the army is asked to crack down on civilian population. And let me stress the ‘crack down’ — not mere deployment, not a specific operation by a select unit in a faraway place like Satkhira, but a general order to kill hundreds if not thousands of people. The Awami government has thus far managed to keep the army away from any such conflagration. With the opposition’s street protests essentially ending, at least for now, the army is not expected to be asked to crack down on anyone. Hence, at least for now, Mrs Wajed is probably not fearing any coup.

It’s slightly trickier to analyse the civilian bureaucracy, whose active co-operation is needed to govern the country. Let me reproduce what I said in July 2011:

The people who make up mid-to-senior ranks of the bureaucracy have spent most of their working lives during the post-1990 era. Like everything else in the country, these officers are directly or indirectly categorised (by themselves, their peers, and their bosses) along partisan lines. And most officers have learnt to live with the system — if your party is out of power, you cover your head, put up with the situation, and survive for five years, after which your party will be back, and you’ll make up for the lost time with accelerated promotions and foreign trips.

The two years of 1/11 rule had slightly upset this balance. But because both Awami/pro-71 types and nationalist/Islam-pasands were hurt equally, it was a wash overall. If all of a sudden it appears that there is no prospect of a non-AL government beyond 2013, a significant part of the bureaucracy will reassess the situation.

One possible scenario is that anyone who lacks the strongest Awami credential (family from Gopalganj, elected into some student council in the 1980s with a Mujibist BCL ticket, suffered under BNP) will become extremely risk averse. The result, implementation of various programmes and policies will become even more lacklustre than is already the case.

But beyond worsening the quality of governance, it’s not clear whether the bureaucracy will actively precipitate a political crisis, let alone recreate a civilian coup like 1996.

One reading of the new cabinet line up — whereby the political nobodies like Dipu Moni and Rezaul Karim Heera are out and stalwarts like Tofail-Amu-Naseem are back — is that the Prime Minister is well aware of bureaucratic lethargy undermining her government. And nowhere would a seasoned, experienced minister be needed more than in the ministry that deals with the big end of the town.

In this government, after the Prime Minister herself, the most important person is the Commerce Minister. He is the man who has to ensure that major business houses (and NGOs such as BRAC) are not hostile to the government. For the most important industry that matters for the economy — the readymade garments — Minister Tofail Ahmed is already working to to ensure that the international buyers come back quickly and stick around (the outlook for the industry is much rosier than some would have you believe — subject of a different post). For other products, Minister Tofail will have to work with the businessmen to ensure that Dhaka markets are well supplied so that the cityfolks are content.

As long as the Prime Minister can maintain overall stability, it’s quite likely that the Commerce Minister will keep the business sector content — after all, what matters most to the businessmen is certainty and stability.

Stability is also the thing that foreigners ultimately want in Bangladesh. India-China-America, everyone has their agenda, and these agendas may not align. But no one wants instability in a country of 150 million Muslims. Given the distrust — justified or otherwise — of Tarique Rahman and Jamaat-e-Islami, and the BNP chairperson’s practical difficulties in dissociating with them, the Prime Minister appears to have convinced the interested foreigners that she is better placed to provide stability and certainty.

Thus, it appears that powers-that-be needed to govern Bangladesh are willing to stick with a Prime Minister who promises order. And at least for now, it’s hard to see what BNP can do alter this. But perhaps BNP doesn’t need to do anything.

One cannot stress enough that the Prime Minister’s grip on the pillars-of-power rests on one and only one claim: she can provide stability. Not the spirit of 1971. Not development records. Not Digital Bangladesh. Nothing like that. All she has is the promise — seemingly justified at this stage — that she can provide order, while her rival invites the risk of chaos.

What can make lie of this promise? Why, events, my dear reader, events. Just consider if something like two events from the Prime Minister’s last term were to occur now.

Just imagine that there is a sudden and violent mutiny in the head quarters of RAB, killing dozens of majors and colonels, while the Prime Minister dithered. In 2009, when this happened at the BDR head quarters, the government wasn’t even two-months old, and frankly, even people like Farhad Mazhar and Nurul Kabir propagated the downtrodden-BDR-vs-fat-cat-army line. If something like this happened now, the reaction from all quarters would be very, very different.

Alternatively, just imagine that a Bangla translation of this book is associated with Hassanul Huq Inu or some other leftist minister of the current government, the word is spread around the Bangla cyberspace rapidly, and a hitherto little-known group of Islamists, based in the capital’s major education institutions, organise a million-strong march in the heart of the capital? You see, in the specific circumstances of early 2013, the government had gotten away with the events of 5 May 2013. But 2014 and beyond will be very different.

The Prime Minister has told the powers-that-be that she will keep order. The reality, however, is that she stands on the precipice of chaos, for the simple reason that Bangladesh — a super-densely populated humid swamp — is always at the edge of chaos. Usually, mandate from a democratic election, or the prospect of the next one, keeps us from falling over the cliff. By taking away the option of a democratic election, the Prime Minister has effectively put a ticking time bomb on herself.

A magical realist masterpiece, Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children has weird and improbable events and people juxtaposed against the history of the 20th century South Asia up to the late 1970s. One such improbable fact was that at the time of writing, and thus the story’s culmination, military rulers of the erstwhile two wings of Pakistan had the same first name.

This is not the only parallel between the political history of Bangladesh and post-1971 Pakistan.

Both successor states of United Pakistan started with larger-than-life charismatic leaders, whose rules ended in tragic denouement inconceivable in 1972. Both giants found governance to be much harder than populist rhetoric, both resorted to un-democracy, and both ended up meeting cruel ends at the hand of their trusted guards. Both countries succumbed to dictatorships in the 1980s, although the extent and mechanism varied. In both countries democratic opposition developed. In both countries, some form of democratic politics came into practice by the 1990s.

But democracy has failed to take root in either, with military interventions or threats thereof, remaining a constant feature. In both countries, electoral democracy has meant two mutually antagonistic parties/coalitions who differ little on policy, but much on personality and the thirst for power over patronage and privilege. Both countries have experienced increasing religious extremism. More recently, in both countries, judiciary and media are experimenting with new found powers, not always to the best effect.

Throw in the political economy of NGO-led development in Bangladesh, or the misfortune of being next to a theatre of the Great Game for Pakistan, and it’s easier to see why democracy may have had such a hard time in these countries. Indeed, with increasing NGO activities in Pakistan and the Great Game coming to Myanmar — a theatre closer to Bangladesh — both countries have much to learn from each other’s misfortunes.

Of course, in Bangladesh, the discourse around Pakistan is so full of vitriolic jingoism that any suggestion of learning something from the Pakistani experience is likely to be met with scorn. But even outside Bangladesh, there is not much by way of comparative studies of Bangladesh and Pakistan.

William B Milam’s Bangladesh and Pakistan: flirting with failure in South Asia is a rare exception. This slender —276 pages including reference and index —volume begins with a brief history of the erstwhile united Pakistan, and then tracks the military-civilian back-and-forth in the two countries up to 2008. The author, a former American Ambassador to both countries, can bring unique perspective to the subject matter. And the book’s conclusion —the tipping points between real democracy and more of the same in Bangladesh and Pakistan are yet to be reached—is something one can hardly quibble with.

One does not read a retired career diplomat for facts and figures. And this book is not full of facts and figures. However, one might expect a lot of interesting anecdotes from someone who served in Bangladesh as the Ershad regime ended and in Pakistan when the Musharraf regime started. Sadly, Milam does not give us such tidbits.

Instead, he opens up a range of questions that could be, ought to be, explored in depth. Truth be told, it’s a tad disappointing that Milam does not push any of these issues further. But then again, at least Milam has written a book. Surely there are others who can add to the literature.

What are these questions? One is about the role of India in the two country’s politics. Another is Islam. I am going to skirt over these two, not because they are unimportant, but because these are fairly well trodden grounds.

Instead, let me pick up the issue of military involvement, and withdrawal, from politics in the two countries.

From the vantage point of December 1971, one might have expected some form of military involvement in Bangladeshi politics. The nucleus of the Bangladesh army was the victorious Mukti Bahini, and its commanders like Ziaur Rahman might have expected some say in the new country’s affairs — historically, states founded by guns tend to give armed men some (if not all) power.

However, it should have been a different matter in what was left of Pakistan. If there was a state where the army rule, directly or otherwise, should have been thoroughly repudiated, it should have been Pakistan after December 1971. Army rule had lost half the country. A quarter of the army itself was taken prisoner-of-war by the ‘hated enemy’. The country was bankrupt, with its major port severely damaged. The idea that generals could save Pakistan should have died in the swamps of Bengal.

Of course, it didn’t.

ZA Bhutto used the army to silence legitimate dissent in Balochistan. And then, in 1977, he tried to rig an election that he might have won anyway, resulting in months of street violence and political gridlock, which paved the way for Gen Zia-ul-Huq’s grim rule.

That’s the most straightforward reading of things. Writers as diverse as Tariq Ali or Anatol Lieven agree that Mr Bhutto deserves to be blamed, if not solely or in whole measure, then at least substantially, for the remilitarisation in Pakistan. So, the question then is, was Pakistan just unlucky to have Bhutto, or was there something about Pakistan that made his power grabs more likely?

Let’s look at the issue from a different perspective. Milam ends his book with the observation that the prospect of democracy, indeed the very survival of the state, was bleaker in Pakistan than Bangladesh.

As of 2008, Bangladesh army —not formally in charge in the first place — was in the process of handing over power to a democratically elected government. In Pakistan, on the other hand, there was a shaky coalition facing jihadi violence, with everyone assuming that it was the clean-shaved general and not the mustached civilian who had the ultimate power.

As of 2008, hardly anyone doubted that the incoming Awami League government would finish its five year term. After all, three previous elected governments had finished their full terms, something no elected government (with possible exception of Mr Bhutto, depends on how one sees things) in Pakistan had done until then. In Pakistan, at the time, hardly anyone expected Asif Ali Zardari to finish his term peacefully and hold an election in five years’ time.

As it happens, the Awami League did finish its five year term, and has just elected itself —not sure how else to put it politely —for another five years. But surprising everyone, Mr Zardari also lasted five years in office, as did the Pakistani parliament that was elected in 2008. For the first time in Pakistan’s history, a democratically elected civilian government handed over power to another such government last year.

So, did Pakistan get lucky with Zardari (or Nawaz Sharif, or Gen Ashfaq Kayani)? Or did something about Pakistan change between the 1970s, or even the 1990s, to now?

Bangladesh army has shown little interest in running the country in recent years. Had it wanted to, there were many occasions in the past year where the army could have toppled the government, with a large section of the civil society and opinionmaking class fully cheering on any coup. But by all accounts, the army has chosen to remain out of politics. Even its 2007 not-quite-formally-a-coup was at best a half-hearted affair, with full insistence of constitutional fig leaves, no matter how muslin-thin the leaves might have been.

Why do armies intervene, or not intervene? Let’s go through a few conjectures.

At the simplest level, perhaps it’s all about the base, corporate interest. Pay them well, and the armies will be happily in the barracks? This may well be a major story in Bangladesh. After all, dal-bhaat grievances were a major (though by no means the only) factor in soldiers’ mutinies of 1975 and 2009. However, considering the lavishes spent on the forces by the current government, money should not matter for any would be Bangladeshi coupmaker. And to the extent that no one —not even Bhutto le pere—tried to clip the army’s economic interests in Pakistan, it’s hard to argue that this has been a deciding factor there.

Perhaps the story is a bit more highbrow?

As is widely accepted, Pakistan army sees itself as the ultimate arbiter of that country’s foreign and defense policies, particularly when it comes to relations with India. As long as these domains are untouched, perhaps the generals are content to let the civilians govern. In that respect, perhaps Pakistan army is similar to the ‘guardian’ armies of Turkey or various Arab republics or Thailand, where the army decides, for whatever historical reasons, that certain areas are no-go for civilian politicians, and they enforce the no‑go-zones through coups if necessary.

Does Bangladesh army see itself in such a guardian role? When a crisis hits, does it see its role as the national saviour? In the blood-soaked 1970s, individual officers saw themselves as potential national heroes—call it the curse of the majors. But from the 1980s onwards, as a collective, perhaps Bangladesh army waits for orders rather than marching to their own bit? After all, in February 2009, the entire brass held fire and waited for orders that never came.

Of course, this is exactly how it should be. Armies are meant to be guards, not guardians. On balance, it’s a good thing that the army has not intervened during Bangladesh’s latest political drama.

But can that remain the case indefinitely? After all, it was Bhutto’s hubris that allowed Zia’s power grab in 1977. Could something like that happen yet again?

Even if it doesn’t, it’s important to understand that military rule is not the only obstacle to democracy in Bangladesh and Pakistan —a theme that runs through Milam’s book, and one that needs to be explored further. After all, it was Mr Bhutto who opened the door for the generals to march back in. So, the question again, was Pakistan unlucky with Mr Bhutto, or was there something about Pakistan? And more recently, did it get lucky with Messrs Zardari and Sharif, or has something changed there?

Here is another conjecture —for all their personal genius, foibles and shortcomings, it wasn’t the individuals, rather, something did change in Pakistan between the time of Bhutto and Zardari. In the intervening years, multiple centres of power —not just the army-bureaucracy and a towering politician, but also political parties representing different provinces and ethnicities and constituencies, as well as media, judiciary and other civil society organisations —developed in Pakistan. While this fragmentation of authority may hamper its policy deliberations, it probably has driven home to Pakistani politicians the need to coexist and tolerate each other. Papa Bhutto stood above everyone, and couldn’t countenance anyone else’s existence. Sharif brothers had learnt to live with others. Perhaps that’s what has saved Pakistan, at least for now.

What about Bangladesh?

This is what Milam says in the penultimate page: Perhaps there is more hope that a real, sustainable democratic culture can develop in Bangladesh, but old habits die hard.

…a government which, because of the perverted institutions of the state, is in a position to eliminate the opposition as a force to be reckoned with, and move towards a one-party state. This election, instead of deja vu all over again, could be the tipping point to something entirely new on the subcontinent.

Bangladesh may well have come a full circle in the past four and half decades. At the beginning of the 1970s, with the left fractious and the right discredited for its role in the country’s freedom struggle, Awami League was the only major organised political force in Bangladesh. Whatever we have, it’s not democracy.

And, Sheikh la fille may well prove to be more successful than her father. Again, over to Milam:

But politics aside, it is 2014 in Bangladesh. The chronic instability and near-anarchy, as well as the abject poverty that prevailed in 1975, have long since disappeared. Bangladesh, while still poor and in the stage of economic development where gains can easily be reversed, is now wired into the global economy with its vibrant garment and other export industries. Growth has been strong for most of the past two decades, and the country as a whole is much more prosperous. More importantly, it has a much more literate and healthy population because of the strides that have been made in mass education and in reducing gender disparity.

In Shame, his novel on not-quite-Pakistan, Rushdie calls the country Peccavistan. Peccavi in Latin means I have sinned. This is the message Sind’s English conqueror sent back to the John Company after he took the country by deception and ‘rascality’. Pakistan used to be governed by deception and rascality, hence the name Peccavistan.

When the results of Pakistan’s first general election became known 37 years ago, a western journalist quipped that Pakistan would soon be replaced by Mujibdesh and Bhuttostan. As things stand, we should rename our country East Peccavistan.

And things will remain as they are unless we choose democratic politics. Make no mistake, that’s hard work. But that’s what it comes down to. A bird cannot fly with broken wings. Our democracy is broken. People governing the country are doing so not with democratic mandate. Choosing democracy means opposing this deception and rascality. Only by joining and fixing the opposition, so that when the table turns it lives and lets live, can we end East Peccavistan.

“Fascism denies, in democracy, the absurd conventional untruth of political equality dressed out in the garb of collective responsibility ….” Benito Mussolini.

Even after a decade of Mussolini’s pronouncement as to the basic reactionary tenets of fascism, the word rapidly suffered a massive interpretative inflection, that George Orwell in his 1944-essay “What is Fascism” could not come up with a good definition of what fascism is and wrote in desperation: “all one can do for the moment is to use the word with a certain amount of circumspection and not, as is usually done, degrade it to a level of a swearword.” In the today’s miasmic milieu of Bangladeshi Politics, in addition to the swearword “razakar”, the word “fascist” is also being thrown around in random both by BNP and its perpetual nemesis AL. It may not have poignancy right at this point, but it certainly is very important to examine the issue further for the future politics of our country. In this write up I would like expound the situation a little further.

What is Fascism?

“Fascis” (an Italian word) means bundle or unit, while “fasces” (a Latin word) is a symbol of bound sticks used as a totem of power in ancient Rome. These two roots aptly describes the basic tenets of fascism: unity and power. However, the nature of fascism espoused by Hitler in Germany, Mussolini in Italy or Franco in Spain is not exactly the same, still there are some basic features than characterizes any fascist movement:

Authoritarian leadership: A fascist state requires a single leader with absolute authority who is all-powerful and lords over the totality of the state affairs with no limits whatsoever. There also can be a cult of personality around the leader.

Absolute power of state: “the fascist state organizes the nation, but leaves a sufficient margin of liberty to the individual; the latter is deprived of all useless and possibly harmful freedom, but retains what is essential; the deciding power in this question can not be the individual, but the state alone” – thus goes Mussolini to encapsulate the fact that there is no law or other power that can limit the authority of the state. This is an antithesis of liberal doctrines of individual autonomy and rights, political pluralism and representative government as espoused by the likes of Rousseau – yet it envisions broad popular support.

Strict social order: To eliminate the possibility of chaos than can undermine state authority, fascism maintains a social order in which every individual has a specific place that can not be altered. This “new order” often is in clash with traditional institution and hierarchies

Nationalism and super-patriotism: Fascism digs into the past with unreal romanticism and espouses an historic mission and national rebirth.

Jingoism: Aggression is felt to be a virtue while pacifism a cowardice. This is how Mussolini writes – “fascism ….. believes neither in the possibility nor the utility of perpetual peace….. war alone brings up to its highest tension all human energy and puts the stamp of nobility upon the people who have the courage to meet it.”

Dehumanization and scapegoating of the enemy: Typically every fascist regime seek out certain group or groups of people – ethnic or religious or ideological as enemy.

Is the Current Bangladesh Regime Fascist?

With the above features of fascism in mind, let’s see how our current regime in Bangladesh fares:

Leadership: In democratic states, power of state is kept in check by constitutional provisions whereby the stately business is run, usually, by three co-equal branches of government, namely, executive, legislative and judicial. In Bangladesh, the legislative wing is clipped by article 70 for many years. Its integrity also is jeopardized by a lack of intra-mural democracy in most of the political parties including the ruling Awami League. Coupled with the prevailing trickle-down politics, where leadership is bestowed upon as a blessing from the party chief for nonpolitical reasons that at times can be plainly nefarious, has brewed a miasma where the party chief enjoys a demi-God status. Judiciary independence, in addition, is a total sham as evidenced by open executive intervention in judicial matters. In fact, the current regime abetted by its myriad of political outfits, has shown a keen interest in using judiciary for the sole purpose of harassment, intimidation and silencing of opposing voices. Thus all the three branches of government has now morphed into a single behemoth bent to serve the wish one single person who is none but the all-powerful Prime Minister – Sheikh Hasina Wajed.

She wields extraordinary power beyond her constitutional ambit. Borrowing a certain amount of mana from her slain father, she also has cultivated a cult where, even her ministers kisses her feet with no shame whatsoever. It is widely reported that even the Awami League leadership was not in favor of the 15th. amendment, and it was not part of her election pledges in 2008, yet it happened only because of the singular wish of Sheikh Hasina. The eventual entropy that has befallen on today’s Bangladesh thus falls squarely on her shoulder. Now after a flawed election on 01/2014, even though her electoral popularity is at nadir, she continues to remain the only person whose opinion matters. With over 3/4th majority in the 10th. parliament, and with Article 70 in place, she still has the capacity to rule by further amendment in constitution, if she chooses.

Although the Prime Minister continues to chant the popular democratic slogans, actually she has become a hindrance by disenfranchising more than 50% of voting population by cunning political games.

State Power: Power of state is on the rise for more than a decade in Bangladesh. Although there is no declared state of emergency at over the past years, the case Limon vs Government is not only a forme fruste, but a routine daily fact of national life. State outfits like Rapid Action Battalian, Police etc. can trample individual rights with impunity. Slapping of a national pride – Shohag Gazi is a daily happenstance. State can now put political leaders behind bar even without prima facie evidence of any wrongdoing. Given the prevailing politicization of Judiciary, individual rights almost to the point of forfeiture. Benito Mussolini conceptualized the process as “all within the state, nothing outside the sate, nothing against the sate.”

Social Order: By introducing three hundred fiefdoms, each headed by a member of the parliament; by nominating non-politician businessmen and thugs for member of parliament; by decapitating the law-making power of the MPs; and by clipping the wings of the elected local governing bodies – the government has instituted a social order where the cadres of government-affiliated outfits (“leagues” and “porishods” of variegate Awami shades and colors) rule over the commoners with impunity. On top on that, there are governmental outfits like police, RAB etc. also continue to be used as enforcers of governmental whims. At the same time, traditional non-political institutions and hierarchies are being decapitated by rampant politicization (both by the ruling Awami League and by its perpetual nemesis Bangladesh Nationalist Party).

Nationalism and Superpatriotism and dehumanization and/or scapegoating of enemies: The government, instead of promoting quiet inclusive nationalism, is bent on promoting a super-patriotism at the expense of non-Bengali Bangladesh nationals. Denial of existence of indigenous ethnic population by our ex-foreign minister is just a naked example. It also is curious, how blatantly the ruling party labels every opposing voice as “rajakar-sympathizer”. It has divided the nation two camps; pro-Liberation and anti-Liberation. Even valiant and decorated heroes of liberation war are not being spared.

Jingoism: Well, militarily, Bangladesh is not powerful enough to consider military expansion, yet it’s portrayal of simple wining of a legal battle as “somudra-bijoy” talks of its mental makeup. But, yes, they are in a permanent war against those whose voice are not in sync with the ideas and ideals of the ruling Awami League.

How about BNP?

Authoritarian leadership is a staple in BNP-politics since its inception. This has now morphed into a family-owned enterprise of the “lesser Rahman” – I mean General Ziaur Rahman. Their intolerance to opposing (or even neutral) view is amply exemplified by the way the treated one of their founder member – Dr. B. Chowdhury. Despite a disastrous leadership during “2006 to 2008-debacle” Khaleda Zia continues to rule over the party with an authority that is unheard of in any any democracy sans Bangladesh. Her heir apparent, Tareq Zia, despite his reprehensible Hawa-Vobon activities during the last BNP-regime, still welds more power than the any senior party leaders. It is a widely reported story that Khaleda once forfeited all the cellular devices from her senior leadership during a meeting, is just an example of her crude power that overwhelms the collective power of the party leaders. Just like in Awami League, they also a slain leader who has become more like a cult-leader in BNP-culture.

The consolidation of the state power to the verge of tyranny, in fact, began during the previous BNP-regime by introducing the now-infamous Operation Clean Heart that rapidly degenerated into an Operation Heart Attack! And the origin of RAB and the the concept of extra-judicial execution by “cross-fire” is of BNP-origin.

Just like AL, BNP also is guilty of promoting the gradual degeneration of traditional social order by empowering parliament members at the expense of local government. Pan-politicization of every sphere of national life is also a staple of BNP.

However, BNP did not had a jingoistic attitude, however, their favorite scapegoat, under the leadership of Khaleda Zia, remained India.

Conclusion:

Yes, definition of fascism fluid, but is definitely not democracy as its biggest proponent Mussolini once said, “democracy is beautiful in theory; in practice it is a fallacy”. And it will not be an untrue statement if one posits that the state of democracy in Bangladesh, currently in a state of total shamble. Election occurred where voter participation was an all-time low and where more than fifty percent voters were disenfranchised to begin with. As per an eminent Bangladeshi jurist – Shahdin Malik, it was more negotiated and predetermined than was competitive.

Given the reasons and the facts in ground, it is very easy to label a regime with characteristics of the current Awami League regime as fascist. There can be arguments both pro and con, but certain facts are undeniable. BNP right now, is not in power. However, the history of BNP under the leadership of Khaleda Zia is not very kosher either.

In a previous op-ed in the daily start (December 19th, 2013) I hoped for sanity to prevail. But the leadership of our God-forsaken homeland, apparently, has a bigger saint to heed to: